The day was unusually cold...pt.2: Mary

The day was unusually cold. A shrouded figure stood shivering alone. If the sun was up, no eye had yet seen it, nor this dark figure which stood weeping as she gazed around and the remnants of her home. In her hand she clutched a worn and dirty piece of cloth. The same cloth that had wraped her son. The same son that, according to Joseph, was standing on trial.... for blasphemy! Blasphemy?? Jesus Christ, nor her son but the son of the living God!
"Why, father." it came out as a whisper.... "WHY?" she screamed letting out all the force inside of her, and yet her tiny son, John, slept on. Why had God let the Romans -the word sounded as a curse, even unspoken -they woke up her, Joseph and even John began screaming. They tore apart her home, even after Joseph said that they didn't know where Jesus was. Apart from grabbing that piece of cloth, she had stood perfectly still clutching her son, unable to move or speak.
They had finally moved on, and Joseph to warn Jesus, only to return despondant and say that he'd already been taken to the high priest for questioning.
Bringing freedom to her lips and now legs, the news which caused Joseph to return to the crowd, now left her feeling frantic. She had to see Him.
She ran barefoot through the streets, until coming upon a crowd she grabbed a man by the arm.
"Where is he? What have they done with him?"
"Whats it to you woman? Jesus deserves to die!"
She ran on, incredulous.
"Peter!" she cried out as she saw him running towards her. "Where is he, Peter?"
Peter shook his head unable to speak as the tears streamed down his face. He took her hand and led her past the crowd to the soilders barracks. In the middle of a square stood a bloody whipping stone. Mary heard a sob rise in his throat as he gripped her hand more tightly. A cold shock came over her, but Peter kept on walking.
"Stop!" yelled a Roman gaurd. "You, man, aren't you one that was just talking with Jesus?"
"yes" it came out first as a whisper. "Yes, I am! If you won't let me, at least let his mother see him! What harm can the woman do?"
After a pause, one gaurd turned to the other. "let the woman come with me, she is weak anyway."
So Peter, stood still, as the officer roughly grabbed Mary, and forced her into a small dark room.
"Jesus" she whispered, heart fluttering. She fell to the ground and looked up into the deep brown eyes of her son, now mangled and bloody, with a purple robe and thorns twisted into his head.
"Out! all of you." the gaurd barked at some other soilders. "You've pestered this man long enough, let him die in peace."
They filed out sullenly, but the gaurd remained silently at a distance.
"my son" whispered Mary.
"Mother." the word barely formed on his lips. Mary had cried many times in her life, but never any like this time. Her whole body shook with tears.
"they can't do this to you." she pulled herself forward towards him and stretched out her hand to touch him, but did not.
"Mary." Jesus said louder this time. Just one word, conveyed so much. With his eyes he was telling her: "trust me Mary, this is not your will, or even what I desire, but what must be done, to obey my Father."
Mary, felt the utmost shame. Who was she to question God? No, one. What right had she to question the will of the Father?...
"Get up, GET UP!" yelled the gaurd angrily. "they are coming to get him, you must not be seen." this time it was a whisper.
Mary's eyes conveyed graditude as she stumbled into a shadowed corner.
The officers came and took him away, and left the room still and empty, all except for a dirty crumpled swaddling cloth, lying bloody on the floor where Jesus had sat.

The day was unusually cold...

The day was unusually cold, as he walked into the middle of the street. The sky was a blanket of clouds, and the wind pulled at the hairs on the back of his neck. Looking both ways, he saw that there was no one in view. He wrapped the dark cape around him and dashed quickly into the shadow of the next building. With a deep breath, he broke into a run and ran as fast as he could down to the center of the city. Heart thumping in his throat, he was sure that someone had heard him, he was as loud as an elephant!
Ah, there was Peter, he walked quickly toward his fellow zelot. "Where is he?" he asked trying to appear inconspicuous. There were tears in Peters eyes. "No, my brother, it is too late." "What??? Of course not, we start and riot and carry him off in the tumult." "NO! Don't you hear me? it's too late." his voice trailed into a whisper, tears now streaming down his cheeks. "I realize now, Jesus came to die." This was ludicrous. "to die? but what about all we've worked for? we can't give up now!" as a prominant man among the zealots, this hard faced Jew had been one of the first to convince the others that Jesus was who they all knew him to be: a prince and a king. He would not stand by as others killed him for no reason at all. He had to rule! To overthrow the romans and that stupid Pilate and other govorners and be King. A King, once again like glorious days of old with King David...
"Haven't you heard? He was beaten. I saw him. I talked to him! You can see his ribs underneath his bloody skin. and today they will crucify him, like all the other common theifs." Peters voice was one of the most intense sorrows, and only a twinge of regret. Not for the loss of the zealots, but for the fact that it had taken him that long to realize the truth. Yes, he had followed Jesus, year after year, he'd heard the preaching, he'd repeated what had been told him, and only now did he know. Jesus came to die for him...

The Dentist

I hate going to the dentist. I hate the familiar dentist-y smell, that overwhelms you when you walk in the door. Then immediatly seeking refuge as well as a place to quickly brush my teeth, I turn to the bathroom. I hate the smell of the dentist bathroom! And then, instead of spending money on something wise, like disposeable toothbrushes, they have a little chair across from the jon. OK, now whats the point of that? For the next person in line to have a seat? To rest your feet while sitting on the toilet???
Next you walk into the dreaded waiting room, where you're met with classical music, which instead of calming you down grates on your nerves. OK, so you attempt to distract yourself with a magazine. Well, the only ones there are TIME, Family Living, and Olde Person Today! AND they're two years out of date!
So finally after agonizing waiting, the cute little dental hygenist, who has no idea what she's gotten herself into calls you in, makes you wait forever again, while grandma dental hygenist comes in and asks you (every time), how school's going. (what are you supposed to say, the truth??). Then when the dentist finally begins thrusting his hand down your throat, he too asks "How's school going?" but instead of "fine" you emit a strange garbling noise complete with drooling all over his hand. An hour later, you're finally all done, your teeth feel all clean and you're set to go with a brand new toothbrush (yay!), and then they ask you to fork over three months worth of pay. (Uh, you can have the toothbrush back!).
Anyone hate this whole experience as much as me?????????

My Favorite Meal

As I have yet to decide upon my favorite of all the delicious meals that there are, I shall describe one my ideal meal...
(It would take place in a beautiful garden just outside Rome.) The first course would be a Greek salad with all the delicious salad toppings, and of course feta cheese, Greek olives and Greek dressings. Next would come some thick, warm and chewy rolls of French bread slathered with butter. Since I'm not fond of wine, (well I supose Champagne) I would drink a tall glass of frozen lemonade (the real thing with lemons floating in it). For the main course I would have Fettuchini Alfredo, complete with thick noodles, creamy Alfredo sauce, and pieces of Chicken scattered on top. To top it all off, I think I would like a slice of Chocolate Mouse cake (a really big slice with lots of whipped cream). Are you hungry yet?

My favorite Meal...